<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>That One Summer by pieckult</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282311">That One Summer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieckult/pseuds/pieckult'>pieckult</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Feels, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Temporary Amnesia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieckult/pseuds/pieckult</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>That one summer where all was lost... that one summer of a sunset not wanting to see another day—it was that one summer where faded memories started to piece back together; but would one summer be enough to bring it all back?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean Kirstein/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That One Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was a prompt that popped into my head out of the blue. i was about to sleep then *bam* random angsty story which MIGHT have a happy ending idk. also, if he's kinda OOC (out of character), i'm sorry.... </p><p>still thinking about whether or not i'm going to continue this though</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div><p>Just two months ago, on a Monday afternoon, where the sun rays peered through the thin fabric of your curtains, you made a pact—one that would last a lifetime—or so you thought. Maybe it was too early; but to the both of you, it was the perfect time... it would have been the perfect time. Dwelling on it seemed futile now that every image of your face had been completely erased from his memories. It was unfair; pictures of him remained vivid in your mind but they were of no use now, were they? They had become dull, colorless remnants of the once joyous moments you treasured.</p><p>With a gleaming face, he got in through your open window, both of your laughters echoing throughout the four corners of your room. Your mom had told him to start using the front door but being the mischief that he was, he had stuck to using the creaking wooden windows of your bedroom as an alternative entrance to your house.</p><p>"You're lucky she trusts you enough to allow you in here but please, use the front door next time," you say in between giggles. The truth is, you loved that there were ladders installed on both walls outside, allowing the two of you to gain access to each other's rooms. You both had theorized that the previous owners of both bedrooms were lovers.</p><p>"I enjoy the exercise," he chuckled, lying flat on your bed, the sound of his back colliding against the soft mattress making you want to lie down with him.</p><p>You rolled your eyes and slapped the side of his thigh. "At least say hi to her. You know how much she likes it when you visit."</p><p>He sat up, eyes glued on you like he wanted to say something... but, as always, he ended up keeping it to himself. It had become a routine for him; looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, then shutting down the faint glimmer of longing in his eyes. You were getting tired of it but you didn't want to put pressure on him. You knew what you felt, but for some reason, he couldn't come to terms with how <cite>he</cite> felt and you had no choice but to wait for the right time; to be patient for him until he was ready.</p><p>"Shut up," he trailed off. "She hates it when I come over," his laugh once again played with your ears.</p><p>"Yeah, maybe consider only visiting during the weekends," ironically, your playful answer led him to be serious.</p><p>"You're leaving as soon as summer vacation starts. I want to make the most of your remaining days here."</p><p>You sighed, sitting down on the unoccupied part of your bed, silence enveloping the room. You wanted to break the heavy aura starting to surround you two but you didn't know how—not when your chest felt like it was about to burst from the way your heart tried to speak for you. <cite>Just say it,</cite> it whispered; but you couldn't. You just couldn't. Not yet. </p><p>Your chuckle sounded more like a bitter scof but you played it off. "You make it sound like I'm dying or something."</p><p>"Can't you just go to where I'm going? I know it's not the best college but it gets the job done," he looked at you, a mischievous grin imprinted on his lips.</p><p>You knew it was a joke yet you couldn't help but take it seriously. The two of you had always been inseparable. The day his family moved in was the day it all changed for you and Jean. This house had always been your home for as long as your restless mind could remember. You were six and you could not have been happier to finally have a neighbor who was the same age as you. You clicked in an instant: having the same interests, agreeing on most things, possessing the same level and sense of humor... at such a young age, you had found your soulmate—or at least that was what you had wanted to think. You wanted to believe that he was the one. You wanted to entertain the thought so badly that you did not see any other person besides him. He had become your shelter, your go-to advisor, your haven... the love of your life.</p><p>"You know it's not–"</p><p>"Not that easy, I know. That was a joke," he replied, nudging you by the waist.</p><p>
  <cite>You knew that.</cite>
</p><p>Once again, the silence took over.</p><p>He let out a quiet sigh of relief upon lying back down, his eyes looking straight at the ceiling, arm acting like a pillow under his head. You followed and lied down right beside him.</p><p>"What if we made a pact?" </p><p>You looked at him, your eyebrows meeting at the sudden question. His side profile was magnetizing. You would always look at him at the most random times, just appreciating the beauty that was Jean Kirstein; although he felt your eyes on him, he never bothered catching you in the act. You two have always had this unspoken connection with each and from an outsider's eye, you looked like a typical couple who had been together for some time; but it was more than that, wasn't it? The special bond that you shared with him was more than just an everyday series of "I love you"s and good night kisses—no—it was much deeper than that. Those three words had never been said but your hearts understood anyway. It always confused you but you could never find the right time... would there ever be a right time? </p><p>"Wouldn't we need a seal for that? You know, something that would set as a reminder for, uh, the pact," you replied, his head turning to you, eyes smiling at the sight of your own. </p><p>He lifted his hands for you to see, using one finger to "slice" through his palm. Now, what was he on again? </p><p>You felt your heart rate get quicker when his large hand got ahold of yours, gently lifting it up. In one slanted motion, he slid his other index finger across your palm. You fought the urge to laugh when you heard a sound from him, imitating the sound of a knife as if it sliced through something. He then enlaced his fingers with yours, the warmth of his hand soothing your skin. This sent a tingling sensation to your stomach. You weren't sure if it was the feeling of sadness or the butterflies turning it upside down. </p><p>"There. Your blood's bound with mine now, the pact is sealed," as soon as those words left his mouth, he tightened his hold on your hand, the light squeeze enough to let you know what he felt because you were certain that was what you felt too. </p><p>You watched as his thumb rested over yours before looking back at him. "So, what is it?" </p><p>As soon as your eyes met his, the electricity coursing through your veins woke up your already rumbled thoughts. Suddenly, your throat felt tight and your face got warm. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time for you to say it once and for all. Maybe he finally needed to hear it from you. Everything felt light and your heart raced dangerously fast, nearly suffocating you. Your mind was made up—whatever it was that he had to say, did not matter. You would respond with your truth which had been buried long enough. It was about time you set it free.</p><p>He put your hands down, your fingers still entwined with his, right between both of your bodies.</p><p>"This doesn't have to end, you know? I know you’ll be far from me but will it really matter? I mean, it's just... distance. There are tons of ways to get to each other."</p><p>"Jean–"</p><p>He let go of your hand, propping himself up on one elbow, eyes still locked on you. </p><p>"On your last day here, before summer vacation starts, meet me at our spot and let's watch the sunset together like we used to," he chuckled. "I know we were, like, ten. But it's a fun memory and I want to relive it. Also, I'll give you something that will make you want to keep holding on." </p><p>At that exact moment, you wanted to bolt out of the room and tell your parents that you wanted to stay... but could you really let your dreams slip out of your grasp when you were just starting to get closer to it? </p><p>Your chest welled up at the feeling of his hand on your cheek. </p><p>"Promise me you'll meet me," he muttered, eyes pleading. </p><p>There was no way you would say no to that. </p><p>"I promise."</p><p>
  <cite>If only you knew what you were getting yourself into...</cite>
</p>
<p></p><div><p>
  <strong>* * * * * * * * * *</strong>
</p></div><p>You stood in front of their house, hesitant to ring the doorbell. The last time you saw him, he was far from the Jean you knew and loved. Your departure was postponed because of the incident. He had forgotten who you were but you still felt like he needed you somehow... or that was what you had hoped. Had this not happened, you would be in the city, settling down in a dorm and familiarizing yourself with the new environment that you would be living in. You took a deep breath, blinking a few times to push back the tears that you hadn't even noticed brim in your eyes. You had another week to stay and after that, you would leave for college; but would you still be able to leave knowing that the only person you had ever fallen in love with could no longer remember you? Couldn't you just go back to two months ago and just confess to him right then and there? Couldn't you just turn back time and undo the stupid agreement? If only it were that easy. </p><p>You let out a breath, finally pressing on the doorbell. <cite>Love was not supposed to be this cruel.</cite></p><p>"Where is he?" You asked Jean's mom who was preoccupied with the stuff she had just bought from the grocery store.</p><p>"He's in his room," she responded, not bothering to even look at you. It wasn't because she disliked you or anything—she just didn't want you to see her struggling to tame her emotions.</p><p>You nodded, keeping your posture upright even though her attention was not even on you. You both wanted to believe that everything would be alright; that you would finally wake up from this atrocious dream. Alas, it was the reality that you had to face. Slowly, painfully, your faith faltered and hope became a meaningless word.</p><p>As you got closer to Jean's room, you felt your heartbeat grow louder. You were suffused in your own fears, unable to think about what you would even say to Jean whom you had been in love with since you were little. It should have felt good to finally be able to admit it to yourself but why did it hurt? You took a deep breath in a frail attempt to hush your nerves. You knocked loudly on the hard door, knowing that low sounds from the outside would not work on the thick oak door. The door opened, revealing a pale and exhausted Jean. He had dark circles under his eyes, his unfixed hair shooting up in different directions, loose strands dangling by the sides of his face. You wanted to grip your chest and give in to the affliction inside you.</p><p>He looked at you and yawned. "I told you, you don't have to keep coming here," Jean said in an obviously tired tone.</p><p>You sighed. "And I told you that I want to keep coming here."</p><p>And, as always, Jean was not able to do anything. He sighed as well, finally letting you in. The room was messy; game consoles were scattered, pictures and DVDs were all over the carpet. You felt like it had gotten even messier over the past week. You helped clean the place up one time but it ended up being disorganized again. You understood, though. It wouldn't be easy for Jean to maintain its order—he already had enough on his plate.</p><p>"Have you figured everything out?" You asked as you entered, cautiously walking on the thick black carpet, avoiding the things littered on it.</p><p>"I'm getting there, I think," Jean replied nonchalantly.</p><p>He sat back down on his swivel chair, turning it around to face you who were half-seated at the carpet, examining the pictures. Photographs of your face were there, too. It was as if Jean was trying his best to give his mind a little nudge and remind himself of the past that he, too, once cherished. </p><p>"Uh, hey," Jean called from his seat.</p><p>From the picture in your hand, your eyes moved to look at him. It had only been three weeks since he lost his memories but it felt much, much longer.</p><p>"Yeah?" You asked.</p><p>Your sunny moments, your frisky bickering, the love that was built on years of friendship and fruitful memories... gone. You wanted to hold on because you didn't want to give up the foundation that you had formed even though you were the only one in possession of it now. It was painful, unbearable; but you wanted to keep fighting for your love. Love? Was it really love? Was what he wanted to say really about that? You felt stupid for even agreeing to make a pact; a pact that <cite>he insisted on making</cite>. It had only become an unfulfilled promise and you hated every bit of it because instead of a long-awaited confrontation, all you got was a heart-shattering news of him getting into an accident. Two days later, he woke up, unable to remember anything. </p><p>"So, uh... I..." Jean couldn't find the right words to say. He needed to tell you before it was too late.</p><p>"You know, ever since the accident... since I woke up from coma, I... haven't really felt whole. Maybe it's because of the lost memories, the missing pieces, you know? But I just... I think that I won't ever–"</p><p>"No, Jean. Don't even think about it," you had finally managed to look at Jean who then looked at his feet.</p><p>You were angry—fuming.</p><p>"I keep on forgetting your name. You know my short-term memory is messed up. <cite>I'm</cite> messed up. And the thing is, you're holding on to something that doesn't even exist anymore. The relationship you've been wanting to rebuild was ended the moment I opened my eyes and didn't know who you were. I'm–"</p><p>"Damn it, Jean!" You stood up, turning your back on the startled boy. Your hands were resting on your waist as you looked up and tried to blink the tears away.</p><p>"I'm just saying I–"</p><p>"Can you stop talking for a minute? Please?" You couldn't handle it anymore. You were crying. Of course, you didn't want to let go.</p><p>You closed your eyes as the tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Your eyelids fluttered open right away when you felt a presence in front of you. It was Jean.</p><p>"I know how hard this is for you," he stated, lifting a hand up to wipe one side of your cheek. "But I don't think this will go the way you want it to," he added.</p><p>Your chin trembled as you closed your eyes once again, feeling the warmth of his touch on your skin.</p><p>"I love you," your voice cracked. </p><p>You finally said it; but you felt like you did it at the wrong time. The thing is, you knew deep down that it might have been too late.</p><p>Jean felt a pang of guilt in his chest but he knew that it was all for the best. He didn't want to give away false hopes. You deserved to be happy and that's why he had decided to finally be honest with you.</p><p>"I'm sorry, but... I don't think I will ever feel the same."</p></div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>